


I Will Remember Your Face

by geekboyzayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, past ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekboyzayn/pseuds/geekboyzayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you wait too long to say the important things and Niall knows this all too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Remember Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> so this is kind of a companion piece to my fic Easy State of Mind and a little bit of venting. originally posted on my tumblr.

  
\----

_because i am still in love with that place_

_when the stars are the only things we share_

_will you be there?_

He should have realized it sooner. That Zayn wouldn’t wait. That at some point they were supposed to grow up and maybe Niall was supposed to grow a pair, gain a little courage. And he did, but Zayn grew up faster then anticipated and when Niall finally had the guts to tell him, to say those three words back, it was too late.

Zayn loved him from the start, from the moment they met in uni, at a frat party and smoked so much they didn’t quite remember why they were naked in bed the next morning. He loved Niall when they moved in together, Zayn loved him when he was sucking him off and Zayn loved him when they just cuddled on the couch and watched the footie games. (Zayn even loved Niall when Niall’s team won.)

Don’t get him wrong, Niall loved Zayn from the beginning too. Niall loved him when he was moody, loved him when he got paint splatter all over the borrowed tank top he was wearing. Niall just couldn’t say, didn’t know how. He was raised so conservative and silenced and emotional things were either slid off his shoulder like dirt or held in and mulled over with worry.

He worried the most about Zayn, about the feelings he held for the dark haired boy with a constant speck of acrylic on his tanned skin. Niall worried most about loving Zayn, grew sick with it, but not sick enough. Not enough to do anything at least.

He walked into the flat one afternoon, tossing his bag in the open closet, grabbed the tin from top shelf and moved to the couch, setting about rolling himself a joint. Tempting Zayn to slink from his room with the curl of smoke. Niall snapped the lighter, inhaled and held it. The white smoke fell heavy in his lungs, lulling his eyes to close and his head to lie back on the couch.

Niall breaths out and his eyes open to watch the smoke curl and rise. A smile breaks on his face and he waits for the click of the door and the sound of feet padding down the hall. He knows Zayn will smell it, the flat is tiny and Zayn is attune to the smell just as Niall is. They’re like bees drawn to sweet flowers.

The door does click open, but the padding feet are not Zayn’s, they’re a lighter step, and Niall turns to watch an unknown boy walk from Zayn’s room. For a moment Niall takes note of only the way the other lad looks. Bright blue eyes, wispy hair pushed to the side and up. He smiles at Niall when he realizes he’s being looked at and his eyes crinkle in the corners. Niall thinks he’s gorgeous and then he suddenly hates him.

There is a smear of paint on his neck and underneath his chin and all Niall sees is green, green everything. This person was not someone from Zayn’s class, he knew of all the people, having grown familiar with most of them as Zayn did. Not to mention this guy was sunshine in skin, he walked to light, smiled too bright, seemed far more cheerful in the last two minutes then anyone Niall had ever seen. And he had Zayns paint in finger prints on his neck and chin. Niall hates him, forces a small side grin as acknowledgement than leans forward, snubbing the joint and moving to stand.

He turns and Zayn’s there now. He glances at Niall, smiles quickly before he presses into the sunshine boy and Niall swallows down something that’s suddenly choking him. He retreats to his room, not looking back, but his mind has done enough to fill in the blanks. Too late. Just too late.

—-

“His names Louis. “ Zayn says this four days later. Niall hasn’t seen sunshine boy since that day, but the moment Zayn talks he knows that’s who he’s referring too.

“Oh.” Niall does his best at nonchalance, takes a mouthful of the mac and cheese Zayn made, looking back towards the television. It’s Arsenal and Chelsea and he’s not missing this game for conversation, especially this conversation.

“I like him a lot.” Zayn continues, Niall nods but doesn’t press further. Hopes Zayn will be quite because he doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t care (tells himself he doesn’t care) about this Louis and what Zayn thinks of him. He just wants to watch the game. 

“Niall?” Niall ignores it, bits his lip in protest to the words that will themselves to reply. Zayn shifts in spot, stands up from the couch and Niall hears him in the kitchen, hears him slam the bowl on the counter. He hears Zayn mutter angrily, but pretends not to make out the words. But the red on his cheeks, warm with hurt, state otherwise.

“He tells me he loves me too. “ Zayn says it and then leaves the flat.

—-

“You’ve just met him Zayn! How do you know he’s not just lying.” Niall is red faced and he’s not sure if it’s from the spliff or from the fact Zayn’s got a back pack and duffle in hand. Zayn’s eyes are red and wet and Niall knows that’s from him.

“ Because he’s the first person that’s said it and I believe him. “ Zayn’s voice is shaking, but he holds his ground, looks bigger then normal, standing on the other side of Niall, the door blocked by the irish boys form. “ He can actually say it to my face.” Zayn wants to throw things, but he clenches his hand instead and glares at Niall.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Niall’s chest puffs with inflating anger and he steps towards Zayn, but Zayn has a needle and he’s quick to deflate the purpose of Niall.

“You know exactly what it means.” Zayn closes the gap, digs his last blow in, never wavering his stare. “ I could have your cock in my mouth and you still couldn’t say it. You used me. Louis doesn’t. He’s not you.”

And Niall feels it like a direct hit to his diaphragm. The wind is knocked out of his lungs and his face contorts from anger to hurt. He didn’t use Zayn. How could Zayn think that? Mouth fell open to speak, but he’s quick to shut it again, eyes dropping to the ground and he grows small in front of Zayn. “ I do love you.” He’s defeated when he says it, Nialls at his lowest point and it’s when he can finally muster the courage to say it.

Zayn sides steps his broken friend, swings the door open. His eyes darken red again and his cheeks are wet, now matching Nialls. 

Zayn goes to leave, is about to take a step out, but pauses fingers go his wrist and he’s quick to unclasp the black and silver metal bracelet, placing it on the hall table in silence. His fingers graze over it, eyes glance at the matching one hanging loose on Nialls hands dropped to his sides. The blondes body is shaking and Zayn doesn’t have to see Niall’s face to know he’s crying. For fleeting moment Zayn thinks he deserves it and he leaves wordlessly. Niall can know how it feels to say I love you and only get silence back.


End file.
